


On The Low

by angellips



Category: Adelaide Kane - Fandom, Justin Bieber (Musician), Reign (TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, F/M, Hollywood, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:56:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5634172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angellips/pseuds/angellips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bad boy every reporter talks about, Justin Bieber, and the Hollywood sweetheart, Adelaide Kane.<br/>Mixture for failure or success?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Low

Chapter I - Cinderella

Red stilettos. Or maybe black ones. 

If all choices in life were as simple as this one, I would probably be - excuse my French - fucked.

The choice between starting a new TV show or continuing my role as the hateful yet loved Cora Hale on Teen Wolf, that was an easy, almost instantaneous choice for me. But whether or not I should wear red stilettos to match my red bodycon dress, now that's a tough choice. Sometimes I hate being such a girly girl.

My life's been a roller coaster of emotions ever since I arrived to America. Let's be honest, I basically came in - no, not like a wrecking ball, that's way too used - by parashoot. I didn't know where to go, what to do, or even if my very first audition on American soil would go well. Still, I dove in, threw myself to the wolves - literally - and got the job. Of course not all the journey to where I got was glamorous, I had to be a part of some sketchy movies directed by sketchy people, but I still thank them every day, for if it wasn't for these people, I'd probably be back in Australia right now. 

I finally decide for the red shoes, what the hell, red can never do you wrong. Looking in the mirror, trying hard not to spasm as I look at my awful ghost-like makeup-less face, I reluctantly grab my makeup bag, doing the best that I know how to put some color into my cheeks, some depth into my eyes and some plumpness to my lips. When I'm finally satisfied, I push my straight hair behind my ear and attach my earrings to my ears as well as my necklace around my neck. 

Silly me, I never even told you where I was headed. You see, every damn year MTV decides to throw a party around June to give attendants a taste of what the summer premieres of all the TV shows will be like. Me, having been a part of the Teen Wolf cast, always decide to go. It's somewhat of an excuse to be with my old pack - I really need to stop making these puns.

I walk down the stairs, careful not to trip and fall on my ass because getting up from the floor with a dress so tight would be harder than climbing Mount Everest, and as I reach the bottom, I do a little happy dance for not having fallen on my ass and grab my bag, keys and phone, opening the door and exiting to my already waiting car. Joshua, my bodyguard, makes sure to very gentleman-like open the door for me, and I practically throw myself inside because, let's face it, my car is way too tall for me. "Thank you," I whisper, thanking my blush-covered cheeks for not showing the redness that has coated them due to me embarrassing myself for the twentieth time in front of him.

The whole drive to the venue is quiet, not because I'm not a chatty person, which you might have already figured out that I am, but because I'm too busy on my phone, taking a few selfies, deciding to post one on Instagram with the hashtags "#almostfell #butimokay #mtvpartyherewego". Not long after, my nearly 500k followers are blowing up my phone, commenting and liking. One particular comment attracts my attention, my brows furrowing in my forehead as I read it:

"Justin Bieber is attending the same party that you are @AdelaideKane ! Omg, I can't believe, my two babies in the same place!"

Right on queue, "Sorry" by the Bieber kid starts playing on the radio. I hum to the song, having to admit that the tune is quite catchy, but at the same time cringe. You know Hollywood people and how they run their mouths, and I for one had never heard anything good about Justin Bieber and his partying, dating and socializing skills. Nevertheless, there were probably be at least a thousand people at this party, it's more than likely that he won't cross my path. I won't associate with him, and he won't associate with me. Simple enough.

Not even three minutes later, the car comes to a halt and Joshua is kind enough to open the door for me. The all too familiar flashes blind me momentarily as I exit the car, thanking Joshua once again before waving and smiling at the cameras. Although I was never a fan of the attention, this is something I have to do, and I can live with it. Suck it up, Addie.

Posing for a few minutes, the photographers finally give up and move on to the next celebrity. Much to my surprise, I hear my name being called and look towards where the soud comes from, a foolish smile filling my lips as I see it's none other than my buddy and partner in crime, Tyler Posey.

"Adelaide Kane, my eyes didn't kid me! You're really here!" He walks towards me, opening his arms in what seems to be an attempt of a hug, but ends up being more like a suffocation technique. I pat his back rather helplessly, and he gets the hint as he releases the tight grip around my waist. 

"You know me, never one to miss a party," I lie, and we both know just how much I prefer to stay at home, snuggle my cats and watch some sappy movie on TV. "How are you doing? I haven't seen you in a while, busy you," I joke, lightly punching his tattooed arm. 

"I'm busy? You're always off to God knows where playing princess," he replies with another joke, a very usual habit of him.

"Queen, you mean."

"Your majesty," he fakes a bow, making my lips part in a small laughter. I mimic him, the smile never leaving my red tinted lips.

"I see you haven't lost your humor, Posey, thank God," I exclaim, my eyes never leaving his. 

"Who's thanking me?" Right on queue, a wild Dylan O'Brien appears out of nowhere, his arm wrapped loosely around a small, blond girl's shoulders, whose name I remembered to be Britt Robertson, movie star and obviously Dylan's girlfriend. 

"Get your head out of your butt, O'Brien," Tyler replies with a playful eyeroll.

"Aww, you love me," he adds, his attention then turning to me. 

"Looking good Addie, how's CW treating you? Also, this is Britt, Britt this is Adelaide Kane," he introduces me to her. 

"Great actually, even though we film somewhere far colder which is a disadvantage," I shrug, turning my attention to Britt. "It's nice to meet you," I offer her my hand to shake with a smile on my lips.

"It's nice to meet you," she politely says, shaking my hand as she smiles. I like her already.

"Well the talk's good, but I have host duties," Tyler says, making me want to slap myself in the forehead. Of course he'd be the host.

"Go get 'em tiger. I'll leave you two to yourselves," I intend the last part to Dylan and Britt, or Brylan as I had seen was their ship name. Not saying anything else, I direct myself further in the venue, making sure to approach the stage where Tyler would be showing off the clips of the various series.

As I had no date, I chose to stick by myself rather than join a group of people. Of course, sometimes people and former cast colleagues would stop by to say hello, we'd have a few moments of small talk and then they'd be back on their own groups. I kind of felt out of place, lost in a way. 

The event itself went by pretty smoothly. I watched as Tyler introduced clips from Faking It, Awkward, Scream, Teen Wolf, among others, clapping my hands excitedly as each and every clip ended, all of them reminding me of the many, many tv shows I had to DVR. Watching Tyler up there made my pride of him grow even more, knowing he had had a tough year and how strong he had become, and most of all, he looked happy, which was the most important to me.

As the ceremony came to an end and the party itself started, I directed myself to the bar, trying to find comfort and maybe an understanding friend in my Margarita. 

"What's such a beautiful woman doing all by herself?" A voice behind me spoke over the loud sound of the music. I turned around, ready to shoo off a perverted old man, when I was hit in the face by a truck. Or rather, by the realization that in front of me stood Justin Bieber. The pictures, music videos, magazines, don't do him any justice. As much as I hated to admit it, his hazel brown eyes and gold-like hair embellished his tanned skin perfectly, his jaw complementing his appearance even more, a pair of plump lips adorning his mouth, so beautiful he was almost mouthwatering. After a few seconds, I regained my composure and ability to speak, clearing my throat. 

"Why is it men's idea that beautiful women need to be accompanied?" I decided to go for a sassy reply, kind of aggressive in a way.

"That's not my idea at all. It was just a subtle way to offer my company," well I don't want it, I was about to reply, but then my good manners took control of me.

"What do you mean?" I tilted my head slightly, trying to play dumb. But, once again, I had to step in a puddle of mud wearing two thousand dollar heels.

"I see someone's a fan of my music," he smirked. This kid's ego is so big, I don't know how he even fits in the room.

"N-no, I didn't even mean that in that way, I was just genuinely curious as to why such a big superstar," I emphasized the word, "like you would want to offer me company."

"I've always wanted to meet a Queen," so he watches Reign? My eyes squint in disbelief. 

"Fine, have it your way," I say, pointing to the stool next to mine. I sip on my Margarita for some liquid courage.

"Sorry if I scared you or something, I didn't mean to pry on your business," too late, I wanted to say, but shrugged it off.

"It's okay, it's not like my evening was being eventful," I add, looking into my almost empty cocktail glass.

And just like that, we dive into conversation like we were old friends. Both of us being from other countries, the fact that fame isn't as easy as everyone makes it out to be, exes and ex problems, his want to become an actor and my silly child-time dream of becoming a singer. Remember I said that in Hollywood word spreads fast? Well, apparently lies spread faster because he doesn't seem as bad as they make him to be.

"-- and then I said, look, excuse me, I know your job is to take awkward pictures of me but if you want that so bad, just add me on Snapchat," I tell him, explaining one of my many one on ones against a paparazzi that he seemed to understand all too well. Just as I finished my drink, I felt his hand on my thigh and his face closing in on mine. I suddenly stood up, shaking my head. "Woah there, what are you doing?"

"What baby girl? I thought it was rolling between us," he says with a smirk, the corners of my mouth turning downwards. Maybe they weren't so far off about him after all. 

"Excuse me," I say, pushing past him, almost disgusted by his actions. I don't stop a single time before exiting through the main door, not even when Tyler calls my name, probably drunk already, and call my driver. Why is it that beautiful guys are always jerks? Damn it.

I check the time. Two minutes later, Joshua is already there with the car, and I get inside swiftly. "Home please, thank you."

Joshua doesn't hesitate to turn on the engine, but his eyebrows lift up in slight surprise. "Back home at twelve on a Friday night, miss Kane?"

"Yeah, I'm pulling a Cinderella tonight," I say, my voice lacking amusement just as much as my head lacked the ability to process what had just happened.


End file.
